


To Find Her

by a_skalds_tale



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Possessive Ivar (Vikings), Vikings, ivar in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_skalds_tale/pseuds/a_skalds_tale
Summary: While courting a different woman, a thrall capture's Ivar's attention, and eventually, his affection.
Relationships: Ivar (Vikings)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

My hands trembled. “Do not mess this up, _whore.”_ My lady, Bodil sneered as she walked towards the hall, where her guest awaited her. Her lips were painted a dark red, her eyes lined with black. She wore her finest dress. The halls of her home bustled with hurry. The slaves, like myself, were scrambling about, getting the last of the feast prepared for her guest. Her _highly respected warrior guest_ she would disclose to no one. 

Bodil has been my mistress for three years now. She bought me from my mother and father, who used the money to settle a debt with their lord in our home city, a days travels away from Kattegat, where I am now. She treated me fairly in the beginning, only leading to crueler treatment as I have grown older and gained the attention of the men in the city, and her household. 

Tonight, it was my duty to serve the mead. It was to be only her and _the warrior_ she had so beautifully dressed for. I stood in the kitchen, frozen in place, terrified of dropping this pitcher of mead. “What is wrong with you tonight, Aisla?” Agnes, a Saxon slave asked me, elbowing me in the ribs as she kneaded the bread dough. 

“I am afraid if I make a mistake, she will punish me.” I said, my voice shaking. 

“You endured the night with the wolves, I believe you can endure anything.” 

One evening a few months ago, I was serving Bodil and the prince she was courting from another city across the sea, and, in a freak mishap, tripped over the princes’ dog and spilled the meat all over him. He was goodnatured about it and laughed, but Bodil, of course, did not. That night, I spent the evening with the wolves. Thank the gods, they took a liking to me and kept me safe, but only after scratching at me a few times. 

“You will do well. She will see it.” We heard her laughing her boisterous laugh. The laugh she did when she was trying to impress a man, make his ego swell. The laugh she did when she was _trying to lure him to her bed later_. 

The head of the kitchen nodded towards me from the doorway. “They are ready for their drink, Aisla.” I nodded, taking the pitcher slowly, and willing my hands to be steady; willing my eyes to watch where I was walking. 

“My gods, _Ivar_ , you are _brilliant.”_ she laughed, her hand to the jewels that lay nestled between her breasts. My head snapped up, eyes wide and round with fear. There sat, _Ivar the Boneless_ , the fiercest, cruelest and most cunning warrior and king. I walked slowly over to them, my eyes watching my feet. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. Bodil’s, I assumed. 

I gently took Ivar’s cup, pouring it as full as it could be, before handing it back to him. It was then I realized, it was _his_ eyes on me. I walked behind him to Bodil, and reached for her cup, filling it as full as I could. 

“Who is this, Bodil?” Ivar asked. All of the color drained from my face. I could hear her teeth grinding. 

“No one, my lord, just a slave _whore_.” she laughed softly, bringing the cup of mead to her lips. 

I looked up at him quickly. His eyes were _blue_. Bright blue. A blue so vivid it chilled my spirit. I quickly diverted my eyes as Bodil looked at me. 

“She looks to me like more than a slave whore.” he told her. She bit the inside of her cheek, her cheeks flushing pink in anger. My eyes closed, cursing this _king_ , for what he had just done to me. 

“That is all, Aisla.” Bodil dismissed me with a chill in her voice. 

I turned quickly and walked as quickly as I could to the kitchens. As I entered through the doors, I looked over my shoulder. He was still giving me that _look_ , and Bodil was seething. 

I fought back tears, tears of fear. Fear of what she would do to me this evening after he had left. I was dismissed by the head cook after the meal was served, dismissed to my cot for the evening. To rest, hopefully. 

I heard when Ivar’s horses and men who rode with him left. The moon had barely risen, which surprised me. A boy, barely older than I, came to my cot in the barn. “Aisla, Lady Bodil would like to see you. Now.” he said, breathless. 

My heart sped up. “Thank you.” 

I quickly made my way to her bedchambers, where she would, undoubtedly be at this time of the night. She was sitting in front of a looking glass, removing her jewelry. “You have disappointed me once more, _whore_.” 

“Ma’am, I--”

“Seducing _my_ guest. _My_ king,” she spoke lowly. “Do you realize how grave a mistake you have made?” I looked at my feet. “Come here.” 

I walked slowly over to her. She made me look at myself in the looking glass. “You have grown into a beautiful woman. Dark eyes, long, beautiful hair. Full lips and breasts. Wide hips, to give a man many children. You are everything I am not.” I looked at our stark contrast in the mirror, and it was true. She had gray eyes. Dull. Lifeless. Her hair was brittle and blonde, and her lips always set into a thin, fine line. She was thin and unshapely. “We must do something to fix that, hm?” 

She hit me across the face, several times, sending me to the floor, as she began to kick me in the stomach, ribs, wherever her feet could meet my form. Once she had her fill, she backed away, sitting down in front of her looking glass once more. “He’ll never set eyes on you again.” 

~~

“I think you may have insulted her, brother.” Hvitserk laughed as Ivar told him the story of the night before. 

“Brother, if you saw this thrall, you would’ve done the same thing. I could not get her to tell me where she was when I was leaving.” he chuckled, sharpening his knife. Hvitserk and Ivar sat in the middle of the town, watching the people walk by. Watching how Bodil ran her sector of the city. It was not to Ivar’s liking from what he saw. 

“What did she look like?” Hvitserk smirked. 

“She was _beautiful_ , brother. Beautiful.” Ivar chuckled. 

Ivar and Hvitserk sat at their post for a number of hours, laughing and planning their next moves. Ivar squinted, seeing a familiar figure move among the crowds. It was a woman, similar in build to the thrall from last evening. She looked in much worse shape than she had last evening. Ivar knew the life of a thrall, of the difficulties and abuse they often endured. But he had not expected this beautiful a creature to have been maimed as badly as she was. 

“You!” he called out to her. Her head snapped up, the hood from her tunic slipping from her head. “Come here!” he called. She slowly walked over to him, looking around her for others she may know. 

“Yes, lord?” she said quietly. 

“You--I saw you last night. What is your name?” 

“Lord, I cannot be seen with you. I will die if I am seen with you.” 

He chuckled. “You will not die. What is your _name_?” 

“Aisla, lord. I must go. I will be killed if I do not go," Her dark eyes looked up into his. Her lip was swollen, a large cut across her bottom lip. Her eyes were swollen and bruised, and she was clutching her side, as though she was in pain. Her expression was filled with terror. “Lord, please.” 

“Who did this to you?” 

“I must go.” she whispered, disappearing into the crowd.


	2. 2

Hvitserk chuckled, leaning in the doorway of Ivar's chambers at the Inn they were staying in. "I thought you did not like this, _Bodil_." 

Ivar scoffed. "I do not. Her tits sag and she resembles a bird, slightly," he smirked to himself. "But I must find out where that thrall is. _Aisla_." he mused aloud. 

"What are you going to do, free her?" Hvitserk's brow furrowed. 

"And what if I do?" Ivar snapped. "I am in need of a woman." 

My entire body ached. Aga, the head cook, had sent me for flour that morning, and the King had seen me. I was embarrassed, naturally. My eyes were bruised, swollen and my head throbbed. My stomach and ribs ache, a deep, seething ache. Not to mention my lip was cut and swollen. I was tired, kept up all night with pain. And tonight, it was my turn to serve the meat. Possibly the hardest chore for dinner. 

We heard the chariot outside of the house, the thud of Ivar's crutches against the floorboards as he approached the dining hall. 

Bodil had worn her emerald green dress this evening, and several gold chains hung around her neck. 

Slumped against the wall, Aga, the head cook motioned for me. "Aisla, it's time for the meat. Come on, dear." 

I shuffled over to the doorframe, taking the heavy platter from the counter, wincing in pain at the weight it carried. It was almost an entire hog, after all. 

I felt the room shift as I entered the dining hall. Ivar's eyes were heavy on my face as I slowly approached the table. They both went silent. I stole a glance at Ivar as I set the platter down. His jaw clenched, tongue running over his teeth. "Bodil, is this the same woman who served us mead last evening?" he asked. 

Bodil seethed. "Yes, lord, it is the same slave _whore_ who served us."

"What has happened to her?" Ivar asked, leaning on his forearms on the table. 

Bodil chuckled. "You know how the men can be with the slaves, lord king." 

Ivar narrowed his eyes at me. "She won't look at you." he observed. 

"How could someone like her look at me?" Bodil asked, leaning back in her chair, cup of ale nearly spilling over the rim. 

Ivar chuckled. "How could you do this to her?" His eyes went mad. 

"I did not do this to her, lord--"

He slammed his hands down on the table. "You _did_ do this to her!" he shouted. His nostrils flared, eyes blown wide in anger, jaw clenched. "You lie to me, while dining with me, Bodil," he laughed. "I must admit, I lied to you as well. I did not enjoy last night. I came back to fetch this woman. This beautiful creature you have marred," Bodil looked at him with hatred in her eyes. Ivar's gaze went to me. My heart raced, unsure of what this unpredictable man would say next. "Did she do this to you?" Taking his crutches, he slowly walked over to me. "You can tell your king." he whispered lowly, cupping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

Looking up at him through teary eyes I whispered, "Yes, my lord." 

"She will be your lady no more. You will come with me, and live with me." he gripped my arm, eyeing Bodil. 

"You cannot just _take_ her!" Bodil shouted, standing up. 

"Of course I can. I can do whatever I like. You haven't much need for her anyway. You were trying to kill her last night, no? Or if not last night, then soon?" 

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "This is not over, Ivar the Boneless." 

"But it is, Bodil." 

We walked, the same pace, beside one another, through the doors of the dining hall. He limped with his crutches and I with my aching ribs and stomach. We got to his chariot where one of his men helped him up into it, and I behind him. "Hold onto me, Aisla." he instructed. I wound my arms around his waist, as he shook the reins. The horses hooves galloped underneath the earth. My brain rattled inside of my skull as we bounced over rocks, holes in the earth, uneven ground. 

His men trailed behind us, armed as though we were marching to battle. 

I dozed off, the gentle swaying and bouncing of the chariot luring me to sleep. When I woke, one of Ivar's men was gently prodding me to let go of him, that we were in Kattegat, at the great hall. 

"Welcome home, Aisla." Ivar mumbled as we stood in front of the hall doors together. He looked over at me and smiled slightly. 

"Home?" I questioned him. 

"Yes. This is where we live. Where _I_ live. You will be of great help to me." he told me, beginning to walk towards the doors, held wide open for him. 

"You are not freeing me?" I asked.

He chuckled. "No. No I am not. I need help, woman. Can't you see I am a cripple?" My face flushed. "You will be a great deal of help to me. Please, go rest," he motioned to a woman, who quickly ran over to us. "Show her my quarters. Ensure she gets adequate rest and attention from the healer." 

"Yes, lord." she bowed slightly to him as he walked towards the large table, surrounded by men. 

The thrall led me down a corridor to a large room with a roaring fire in the hearth. "I'll be right back," she said quietly as I took in the room. There was a large bed, covered in furs. A table with maps, letters books, ink pens, spread out all across the table. "Here, dear," the thrall handed me some dresses. "Please, bathe and I will ensure the healer comes to see you this evening before lord Ivar retires for the evening.” She bowed her head slightly to me, motioning towards a tub near the side of the fireplace, steaming with water.

The bath was relaxing to my aching body. There were oils and herbs in a basket to the side of the tub. I took the liberty of using a few in the water. It began to rain, and I heard the gentle patter of the rain on the roof. The sound lulled me to sleep for a few moments, before there was a knock on the door.

“The healer is here for you,” the same, timid girl squeaked from the doorway. A woman healer walked through the doorway. “Aisla, this is Tone, the healer lord Ivar asked to see you.”

“Thank you.” I slowly got out of the bath water, trying carefully not to drip any water on the floorboards.

“What happened?” Tone asked, as she began to prepare a paste of herbs and oil for my eyes, my lip.

“My—former master did not like me very much.”

A small smile briefly crossed her lips. “Are you afraid?”

I shot her a confused look. “Afraid? Of what?”

She chuckled. “Surely you’ve heard of Ivar the Boneless?” she began to wipe the paste underneath my eyes, on my lip. She also kept it on my ribs, my stomach.

“Of—of course I have.” I stammered.

“And here you sit. In his chambers. To sleep in his bed. And you aren’t afraid,” she pondered something for a moment before wiping her hands on some cloth. “He has shown you more kindness than he does to most.”

“What—what does that mean?” I asked, my heart racing. I was beginning to shiver.

“He must like you. I’m sure beneath your bruises, you are beautiful.”

My cheeks flushed. “What do you think he will do to me?”

“Ask him to take you to the seer,” she began to gather her things. “Leave this on for a few more moments, then wash it off. You should be better by morning.”

Within a few moments she was gone and I was left alone with my thoughts, of why Ivar the Boneless has shown me kindness.


	3. 3

The door to Ivar’s chambers burst open halfway through the night, startling me awake. He slammed the door behind him, ambling slowly to the bed, eyeing me angrily.

“Lord,” I mumbled, uncertain of what he would want me to do; where I should go. “Thank you for allowing me to see the healer.”

He grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, groaning, his crutches clattering to the floor. He sat there for a moment, running his palms on his thighs. “Lord—lord do you need—”

“I need for you to be quiet.” He sneered, making me jump.

He began to work at the braces around his legs, undoing the buckles and ties. He sighed as they fell to the floor alongside his crutches.

“ _Sleep_.” he growled at me, pulling back the furs on the other side of the bed, before sinking slowly into the mattress.

I rolled onto my side, my back to him. He slowly drifted into sleep, soft snores coming from his side of the bed.

The next morning, I awoke more tired than when I went to bed. Ivar had tossed and turned all night, cursing at his pain, the pain that radiated down his legs.

Ivar awoke early, before the sun rose, and noisily put his braces back on his legs, and left without saying a word.

I dressed for the day and left Ivar’s quarters, unsure of what he wanted me to do.

* * *

I sat in the hall with Hvitserk for breakfast. “How is your new whore?” he asked.

I glared at him. “She talks too much.”

He chuckled. “But she is beautiful enough to _deal_ with, hm?” he asked suggestively.

I shook my head. “It’s not like that.”

“Yet.” Hvitserk smirked.

“Maybe.”

“What—do you want to make her your wife?”

“No one said anything about a wife. She is my _servant_.”

“Hm.” Hvitserk smirked at me.

There was a small knock on the door, before it slowly creaked open. Aisla stood there, in a new dress. It hugged her frame perfectly, filling me with desire. “Lord?” she squeaked. She looked much better than she did last night.

“Yes?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Lord, where would you like for me to go? What would you like for me to do?” she asked shyly, trying to hide herself.

“Come here,” I demanded. She walked over to me. I looked at her, from her head to her feet. Her eyes were no longer swollen, just slightly bruised. Her lip had healed. I was, once more, struck by her beauty. Her wide, dark eyes, beautiful hair the same color as the sunrise. She has full breasts and hips, a round ass. “I think I’d like for you to stay with me today.”

She gasped slightly. “Yes, lord.”

* * *

I stayed with Ivar this first day. Fetching him ale, food, listening and learning of the battle plans he and Hvisterk were devising.

The men and Hvitserk left the great hall for a moment, leaving Ivar and I alone. “Aisla,” Ivar spoke lowly. “I want you to listen and learn of all these things. I may need you one day.” He eyed me, his ice blue eyes boring into me.

“Yes, lord. I will try my best.”

He smirked at me, before going back to looking at his maps, chewing the inside of his cheek in concentration.

The day was long and quite boring. I tried paying attention to what the men said, but most of it washed over my head. I was still tired, kept up most of the night with Ivar’s constant tossing and turning, a result of the discomfort in his legs.

“I am tired,” Ivar announced long after sunset. My ears perked up at the potential of sleep soon.

We walked slowly back to his chambers. There would be no way he could sneak up on anyone in the middle of the night when the hall is quiet. The clank of the metal of his crutch against the stone, his incessant hissing at his pain, his arms beginning to quake beneath the strain of the day. “Lord, would you like to rest a moment?” I suggest quietly.

“No,” he hissed. “We’re almost there.”

We weren’t.

“Lord, I am still confused, what is my purpose to you exactly?” I asked quietly, our arms brushing for a moment.

He growled. “Are you stupid? You are to do whatever I may need of you for the day. It may not always be the same things and your duties may grow, one way or another, if I begin to like you.”

My heart stung slightly. “Lord, if you didn’t like me, then why did you take me from Bodil?”

“Because you are nice to look at, now _shut up_.” He snarled, throwing the door to his chambers open. There was another thrall already in the room, dumping steaming hot buckets of water into the bathing tub.

My brow furrowed with further confusion. _Isn’t that what I am supposed to do_?

“My King, the bath has been drawn and the furs changed to the ones you requested.” She said quickly, nearly throwing the words out of her mouth.

“Out!” He barked. She scurried from the room almost as quickly as she had spoken. “Take my braces off,” he demanded, sitting down in a chair close to the tub. “Be careful!” I knelt down at his feet, and as gently as I could, unbuckled the braces that allowed this magnificent man to walk. I undid one successfully, proud of myself for how quickly I was able to undo it. This one was more of a cage for his leg, that allowed his leg to bend at the knee; the other an entire metal leg that I didn’t quite know where to start with.

I looked up at him and unexpectedly caught him softly gazing at me. He caught himself, the tips of his ears flushing bright red in embarrassment. “My king, please, how do I do this one?” I asked, quickly looking away from him.

“You start here,” he pushed up his tunic slightly, revealing where his brace was connected to a belt around his hips. “Unlatch this like so,” he did it, speaking softly. “And then at the back of my leg, there is a release.”

“I feel it!” I told him. I unlatched it and the first section of metal came unhinged, unwrapping itself from his thigh, then the next from around his knee, and the last from around his calf.

I looked up at him, as if asking what next. “Help me to the tub.” He pulled his tunic over his head, revealing a muscular, tattooed chest that made me flush from my chest to my cheeks.

He took a deep breath before untying his trousers and pushing them down his hips as gingerly as he could. His legs are thin, frail; very little muscle from very little use. His bones poke and prod at his skin, and as he moved his body I could see every bone move along with him.

“Don’t stare.” Ivar growled at me.

“I am sorry, my King.”

He took his crutch and softly hobbled over to the tub. He lifted one leg, then the other in before sinking slowly, his arms bearing all of his weight on the edge of the tub.

“My shoulders are sore. Get that oil.”

My cheeks flushed. I knew what he wanted. I got the oil and warmed it between my palms before sliding my hands over his bare skin. I could see his eyes closing as he slowly melted into the warm water of the tub. I gently began to massage out all of the knots in his shoulders.

He moaned softly, his head lolling to the side. “Woman, your hands are from the gods, I swear it. Perhaps I’ll keep you for this reason alone.”

My hands worked up the nape of his neck and down to his shoulders and the tops of his arms.

“Before you lure me to sleep, I’d like to wash.” He said, his voice deep with sleep. He took the cloth from the edge of the tub and began to wash himself, allowing me to sit back and watch.

His back muscles flexed and tensed as he ran the cloth up his arms, his chest, and down his legs. “Get me the dry fur.”

“Yes, lord.” I said, hurrying to get him a dry fur from the foot of the bed. He was already sitting at the chair again, water dripping from his body onto the floor. His cock was half hard as he eyed me approaching him. I flushed once more.

“You see what you do to me, _Aisla_ ,” He said lowly, taking the fur from me, never breaking eye contact. “I will not have you yet. I need to ensure that you can be _trusted_. The last woman I was with,” he paused, running the fur gently over his legs. “She betrayed me. And I will not be made a fool of again.”

“I would never make a fool of you, my King.” I blurted out.

He smiled, then smirked slightly at me. “Of course you wouldn’t, my _Aisla_.”


End file.
